Chapter 9 #2
Gwen’s brows lifted in surprise. Indeed, she had recognized him.
The duke offered a courtly bow, his baritone voice resonant. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Smythe. Felicitations upon your wedding.”
Gwen dipped into a curtsy, murmuring a polite response as her gaze flicked, ever so discreetly, around the room to discern who else she might be obliged to greet this morning.
Her father stood near the fireplace, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, his ever-present grin fixed in place.
Clearly, he was near to bursting with pride over the distinguished connections Aidan had brought into their modest family.
Aidan turned next to the lady beside the duke. “Your Grace, may I present Miss Smythe.”
Gwen swiftly curtsied again, belatedly realizing that this was the Duchess of Halmesbury. The duchess was a tall woman, though still several inches shy of Gwen’s height, and visibly with child. A soft roundness marked her growing figure, and her brandy-colored eyes gleamed warmly as she smiled.
“Miss Smythe,” she said graciously, “welcome to the family.”
“F-family?” Gwen echoed, startled, her wide eyes darting to Aidan. But it was the duchess who answered.
“My brother, Lord Filminster, is married to Lord Abbott’s sister. His Grace and I returned to Town upon hearing of the nuptials.”
“Oh.” It was a woefully inadequate reply, but Gwen’s mind had stalled, still reeling from the revelation. Why had Octavia failed to mention this? The connection to Halmesbury, one of the few dukes in the kingdom, was certainly the sort of intelligence a lady’s maid ought to impart.
Before she could dwell on it further, Aidan continued the introductions.
Gwen turned next to meet Lord and Lady Saunton.
Despite Octavia’s scandalous tidings about Lord Saunton’s early reputation, Gwen found him courteous and unexpectedly entertaining.
His emerald-green eyes twinkled with amusement, and he seemed wholly captivated by his wife.
Lady Saunton was a poised young woman with soft reddish-blonde curls and a gentle confidence that Gwen admired immediately. Her manner bespoke intelligence and a quiet strength, and her hand remained securely linked with her husband’s throughout their conversation.
Their dialogue was briefly interrupted when Lady Saunton’s skirts stirred, and from behind them emerged a small boy with sable-dark hair and eyes to match his father’s. He blinked solemnly up at Gwen.
“Hallo,” he greeted her without ceremony.
Taken aback, Gwen inclined her head. “How do you do?”
“Are you Cousin Aidan’s new wife?”
Lady Saunton laughed lightly. “Not quite yet, Ethan.”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “Does she play chess, Mama?”
“I am not certain,” Lady Saunton replied. “Perhaps you ought to inquire.”
Ethan regarded Gwen with a contemplative expression, his earlier boldness giving way to a hint of shyness. “Do you play chess?” he asked at last.
“I do.”
“After you marry, will you play with me?”
Gwen smiled, charmed by the lad’s earnestness. “We must enjoy the wedding breakfast first.”
“And then we can play?”
She nodded. “Then we can play.”
“Good.”
Ethan vanished behind the Countess of Saunton’s skirts once more, the tails of his little green coat the last glimpse Gwen caught of him.
She remained momentarily bemused. That Lady Saunton should show such easy affection toward the boy, whom Gwen presumed must be the very child Octavia had whispered about, spoke volumes.
There was no hint of discord between the trio.
Rather, they appeared much like any loving family.
Next, Gwen was presented to the local vicar, a round-faced man with a bald crown and long white side-whiskers that gave him the look of a kindly cherub.
“I appreciate your presence this morning, Vicar,” Gwen said, dipping into a respectful curtsy.
“Not at all, Miss Smythe,” he replied jovially. “Lord Moreland’s generous donation to our parish ensured my attendance. We are quite grateful.”
Aidan moved on with the introductions, presenting Lord Filminster, who bore the same dark chestnut hair and brandy-colored eyes as the Duchess of Halmesbury, clearly her brother.
He bowed politely and offered a reserved smile, but unlike the others, there was a certain guardedness in his manner.
Gwen returned the gesture with demure courtesy, sensing he was not one inclined to idle chatter.
The formality began to ease as Aidan introduced those closest to him.
“And this is my sister, Lady Filminster.”
A petite young woman stepped forward with an eager smile. Her hair was a shade richer than Aidan’s, and her eyes sparkled with warmth. She seized Gwen’s hands without hesitation.
“Please call me Lily! We are to be sisters, are we not? Oh, I adore weddings. They always make one think of the future and possibilities and babes. Imagine! Another scandalous match, barely a month after my own ruin. What an extraordinary turn life has taken!”
Gwen blinked, startled by the torrent of cheerful words.
“Aidan tells me you love to read,” Lily continued, undeterred. “I have recently developed an interest in French military strategy. Do you have a favorite subject?”
Still reeling slightly, Gwen hesitated before answering. “I favor the Ancient Greeks. Aristotle. Homer.”
A soft, appreciative sound escaped Aidan, and Gwen caught the flicker of admiration in his gaze.
“Oh, that is rather beyond my abilities,” Lily said with a good-natured laugh. “Aidan and Sophia are the scholars of the family. I must resort to a dictionary when studying French! But Greek … how fascinating!”
Then, quite suddenly, her expression turned thoughtful. She glanced over at her father, something unreadable passing across her features, before turning back to Gwen.
“Welcome to the family,” she said quietly. “Whatever the future brings, I am truly delighted to call you sister.”
Then the young woman enveloped her in a hasty, somewhat clumsy embrace before stepping back with a bright smile.
Gwen found herself momentarily winded by the exchange.
Lady Filminster might have been no larger than a schoolgirl, but her energy could easily fill a ballroom.
Her personality was certainly far grander than her diminutive frame.
At last, Aidan led Gwen toward his parents, and she was surprised to see that they had been joined by an elderly servant.
The woman, clearly advanced in years, was dressed in a simple maid’s uniform.
Wisps of white hair framed her wrinkled face like a downy halo, and her mobcap drooped sideways in quiet rebellion.
Lady Moreland greeted Gwen graciously, then turned to adjust the slipping cap with motherly precision. Aidan brought Gwen to a halt in front of the maid without offering explanation.
Leaning down with theatrical volume, Lady Moreland shrieked into the woman’s ear, “THIS IS MASTER AIDAN’S brIDE!”
Gwen startled slightly at the outburst, blinking as the old maid turned her faded eyes toward her and smiled. With a somewhat wobbly curtsy, the woman offered her silent blessing.
“This is my father’s nursemaid,” Aidan explained gently. “Nancy helped raise us all. She was Lily’s companion for many years, and my parents thought she might enjoy attending the ceremony.”
Gwen felt a sudden, unexpected surge of kinship. The Abbotts, for all their grandeur, seemed to value the same things her own family held dear. Loyalty, longevity, and the quiet dignity of lifelong service.
Lady Moreland must have perceived her thoughts. “Where is that curious lady’s maid of yours?” she asked, a note of inquiry rather than criticism in her voice. “Does she not wish to witness your vows?”
Gwen smiled, the warmth in her expression unfeigned. It seemed she and Octavia had misjudged Lady Moreland’s opinions upon their first encounter. “I shall ring for her at once.”
“Yes, my dear. We ought not keep the vicar waiting. I am certain he has other duties to attend.”
Octavia was summoned, and Gwen stood quietly for a moment, taking in the gathering around her. So many new relations. So many titles. And yet … they had all proven more welcoming than she had dared hope. Even Lord Filminster, who remained somewhat reserved, had been polite.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this would all turn out better than she had ever imagined.
Aidan cast her a glance, his eyes lingering, and Gwen felt her heart skip. There was something in his gaze, an expression of admiration mingled with promise, that made her wonder if tonight might mark not merely the start of a marriage, but the awakening of something far deeper.
Despite the caution she had worn like armor for so many years, Gwen found herself daring, truly daring, to believe in her father’s vision of the future.
Perhaps … this would become the love match she had once dreamed of.
While they took their vows, Aidan felt both bliss and remorse.
The sacred weight of the moment pressed upon him, binding him to Gwen not only in duty, but in a tender, growing affection.
It had been quite a surprise when he had learned that the duke and duchess had returned, along with his cousin Sophia and her husband, the Earl of Saunton.
The linked families had all met yesterday, except for his own parents. Lord Moreland had not wished to involve Lady Moreland in the discussion. Aidan agreed that there was no reason to distress his mother when they did not yet know the truth about the baron’s murder.
It had soon become clear that their arrival was not merely to celebrate the wedding.
It was a deliberate and thoughtful show of support for his bride in the event that Smythe was accused of murdering Brendan’s father.
Apparently, his brother-in-law had apprised them of the investigation in confidence.
That the matter still lingered unresolved cast a faint shadow over today’s ceremony.